


Spinning Yarns

by Moorishflower



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-24
Updated: 2010-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moorishflower/pseuds/Moorishflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is very, very good at telling stories. After all, most of them are about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinning Yarns

  
"Okay, once upon a time…"

"Only _kid's_ stories start like that."

"_Hey_. Did I ask you to be a punk? No? Then shut up. Who's telling this story, anyways? You freaking kids, I swear. All right, where was I…Oh yeah. Once upon a time, there was a land far, far to the north, and in it was a kingdom called Asgard. It was bitingly cold in the winter and pleasantly cool in the spring, and it was presided over by a group of gods and goddesses called the Aesir."

"What's 'presided' mean?"

"It means…it was their kingdom. Every rock and tree and river was theirs. But not in the way that your video games are yours – like how the air is yours, but it belongs to everyone else, too. You see, the land belonged to the Aesir, but it also belonged to the beings they shared it with: the jötnar, and the svartálfar and ljósálfar…"

"And the _what_?"

"Giants and elves, kid. And dwarves, too. Dozens of different races, all living in this one place, existing together. Because they had to. Because none of them were strong enough to wipe out the others, even though they tried, occasionally."

"This story _sucks_. Where're the dragons and the assassins and the laser fights?"

"What do you want from me, a miracle? Here, if I give you half of my Butterfinger, will you shut up?"

"Um…yeah!"

"Then take it and be quiet. So, this place. This beautiful, wild, wonderful place was home to the Aesir. And one of the biggest and strongest of the Aesir was Thor, the son of Odin. Now, Thor wasn't all that bright – he could be clever, when he needed to be, but for the most part he was all muscle and no brain. Which wasn't to say he was a bad guy – he was a _good_ guy. One of the best. And one day, he woke up and found that his favorite hammer had gone missing."

"Who has a favorite _hammer_?"

"That hammer was _Mjollnir_, kid. Thor went _everywhere_ with it. He slept with it, he brought it to Bilskirnir when it was time to eat…This hammer could level mountains. It never missed, and it always hit precisely as hard as Thor wanted it to. If he threw it, it would always return to his hand, _and_, when he didn't feel like carrying it around any more? He could shrink it down to the size of a pencil and carry it around inside his shirt."

"_Wow_. Did he use it to kill things? Like…like demons and monsters?"

"Oh, all the time. But like I said, one day Thor woke up, and Mjollnir was _missing_. He looked _everywhere_: under his bed, in his closet, beneath the kitchen sink…well, under the wash bucket, but same thing, really. But he couldn't find it. Not _anywhere_. So Thor, who, like I said, could be clever when he needed to be, figured out that Mjollnir had been stolen from him while he slept, because no matter how hard he called for it, the hammer didn't return to him. And that was a _bad_ sign."

"Who took it?"

"I'm getting to that part. Now, it also happened that there was another Ás who lived in Asgard…A powerful, intelligent, devastatingly _handsome_ god named Loki. Loki and Thor were good friends…see, Loki was sort of like Thor's uncle, but not really. Like a step-uncle. They'd had _tons_ of adventures together, so Thor went to Loki in a panic and told him about the missing Mjollnir. And Loki put on his Ray-Bans and told Thor not to worry, because he was going to handle _all_ of it."

"What are Ray-Bans?"

"Seriously? That's like, the most famous brand of sunglasses in the world. What do they teach you people in school, how to _count shit_? Lame. Oh. Don't tell anyone I swore, or that Butterfinger's making a reappearance in ways you don't want it to."

"Why was Loki wearing sunglasses, anyways? If he's a god, shouldn't he not need them?"

"Because they made him look _badass_, that's why. So. Loki dragged Thor halfway across Asgard, with the big baby whining about his hammer the whole way, until they got to Sessrymnir, which was the hall of the goddess Freyja. See, Freyja had this cloak made of falcon feathers, and when you put it on it granted you the power to fly. Of course, Loki could have flown by himself, but he wanted to save up his strength in case he needed to fight to get Mjollnir back. Always watching out for others, Loki was. So when they got to Freyja's hall, Loki asked to borrow her cloak, and because Freyja was pretty hot for him, she gave him the cloak right away."

"'Hot' for him?"

"Hey, I don't make fun of how _you_ talk, do I?"

"Um…yeah, you do."

"Whatever. So Loki took the cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders, and as the wind picked up he launched himself into the air and flew off into the wild blue yonder, searching for Thor's hammer. He flew for a very, very long time – Asgard was a big place, you know – until he finally reached Jotunheim, the home of the giants. Jotunheim was ruled by a guy named King Thrym, and so Loki flew to Thrym's home, where he found the guy sitting alone in the dark, playing with his dogs and generally being a whiny bitch about how sucky his life was. So Loki was all 'What's up, Thrym? Hey, have you heard that Thor's hammer has been stolen?' Because Loki was so cool that even the giants liked him, and the giants generally _hated_ the Aesir. And do you know what Thrym did?"

"What?"

"He up and told Loki that he'd taken the hammer."

"That's stupid! If you take something you don't _tell_ people you took it!"

"That's just how Loki was. People told him things, and Thrym was no exception. He went on to tell Loki that he'd give Mjollnir back to Thor if Freyja, that beautiful goddess I mentioned before, agreed to be his blushing bride. So Loki said 'That's cool,' and then he burned rubber back to Asgard so he could tell Thor and Freyja. You might have guessed already, but neither of them were happy to hear the news. Freyja was so angry that the whole _building_ shook. That's something you should remember, by the way – never go to a woman and tell her she's marrying somebody. They don't take too kindly to it."

"I'll remember."

"Good. Now, Loki and Thor decided that they should call all the Aesir together so that they could come up with a plan. Loki was brilliant, you see, but he was also very humble – he liked to let the other gods feel like they were contributing something. And, as it turned out, there was an Ás there named Heimdall. Heimdall was in charge of the bridge that lead into Asgard, and he saw _everything_ that went on, so he was a pretty smart dude. And Heimdall came up with the idea that they should send someone else in Freyja's place…someone like Thor."

"But…Thor's a guy!"

"That's exactly the argument that Thor made. But, in the end, it was the only plan that made any sense and didn't involve just sending Loki in, so they went with it. They borrowed Freyja's dress and necklace, and a bridal veil, and they stuffed Thor into it, sort of like stuffing a sausage, if the sausage had a beard and kept swearing at you, and then Loki disguised himself as a handmaiden and the two of them traveled all the way back to Jotunheim."

"What's a handmaiden?"

"Sort of like a servant. It means Loki had to wear a dress, too. But he looked _good_ in it. Not like a hairy sausage. So, once they got to Jotunheim, they were met with celebrating all around. Thrym kept going on about how his collection was 'complete,' because Thrym was a hoarder, and he probably would have ended up on that show. You know the one, right? Where people keep newspapers from nineteen-eighty-five and they don't throw away tins of cat food, even though they don't have a cat. Anyways. Thrym was overjoyed, and he called all of his brothers and sisters and had them arrange a last minute Vegas-style wedding. If Elvis had been born yet, Thrym would have demanded they have an Elvis impersonator preside over the whole thing. _That's_ how classy this guy was. And, because he was the king, everyone had to do what he said, so here were all these poor giants having to bring in the food and mead that _they'd_ been planning on having for dinner. Mead, by the way, is like beer."

"What's it taste like?"

"I'll let you try some later. Don't tell anyone, though. So, all of Thrym's brothers and sisters and cousins brought in truly _impressive_ amounts of food and booze. And, you know, poor Thor had been worried sick about his missing hammer, so he'd been forgetting to eat. When he saw how much there was to eat and drink, he grabbed a plate and started chowing down. Not only did he eat all the finger foods that were meant for the women, but he scarfed down _eight_ salmon and pretty much an entire cow. By the time he was done he was so drunk and full you could have rolled him around like a beach ball. Understandably, Thrym was a little confused. The real Freyja wouldn't have sucked down eight fish, heads and all, and so Loki had to chime in real quick and do some damage control. Loki told Thrym that Freyja had been so excited to meet her new husband that she hadn't eaten for eight nights, and that was why she was so hungry."

"I don't think Thrym was very smart."

"You and me both, kid. I mean, how he didn't notice that his bride was sporting a full beard and some pretty hefty muscles is beyond me. But Thrym fell for it, and everyone else in the hall got to pick over whatever Thor had left of the food, and for a while there was some drinking, and some talking. Eventually, though, Thrym decided that he wanted to give his bride-to-be a kiss."

"Oh, _gross_."

"Yeah, for you and for Thor, too. Thrym wasn't exactly the handsomest bachelor at the party. But Thor was pretty drunk by that point, and he was raring to get his hammer back, so when Thrym reached for the bridal veil, Thor puckered up. Except Thor had been drinking. You ever seen someone who's drunk way more than they should?"

"I think so…"

"Yeah, you have. When they get all red-eyed and puffy and they smell like booze and sweat, except somehow it's like, ten times worse because the two are combined. Don't mention that to anyone, though. But that's what Thor looked like: his eyes were bright red, he smelled like salmon and booze, and he was making this sort of half kiss, half scowling expression. Basically, he looked like nothing that you would ever want to make out with, and Thrym wasn't a handsome fellow, but even he could recognize when someone was about to gnaw his face off if he got too close. And again, Loki had to step in and save the day, because Thrym was all 'This chick's eyes are _on fire_ with rage!' And that was sort of a turn-off for him. So Loki spoke up, and told Thrym that 'Freyja's' eyes were so red because she'd been so excited over her new husband that she'd forgotten to sleep for eight nights straight."

"This guy was dumb as a _rock_."

"Like I said, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box. But, regardless, Thrym fell for it, and the party continued. Thor got to pull his veil back down, and for a while it seemed like they were going to have to wait for everyone to fall asleep so that they could sneak away and convince someone to go and get Mjollnir for them. They were in luck, though, because that was when Thrym's greedy sister decided to ooze out of the woodworks. The first thing she did was to go up to Thor and to demand a bridal fee. Basically, asking Thor to pay for the privilege of marrying her brother, the king."

"People actually _did_ that?"

"Some people still do. Now, Thor didn't have any cash on him, so he ended up forking over some gold rings he was wearing at the time. He was none too pleased about it, so Thrym decided that it was finally time to get himself hitched. He called for all his cousins and brothers and sisters to bring out Mjollnir and lay it on Thor's knees, so that Vor, the goddess of vows, could bless the wedding. Even among the giants, Mjollnir was an important symbol. So, the hammer was dragged out from where it had been hidden underground, and Thrym laid it across Thor's lap, pretty obviously expecting some heavy make-out sessions for being so thoughtful. And Thor, drunk as all hell and twice as angry, picked up the hammer like it weighed as much of a feather, and swung it as hard as he could at Thrym's skull."

"Awesome! Did his brains come out?"

"There were brains _everywhere_. Thor swung that hammer until the entire hall was splattered with brains and blood and Heaven only knew what else. He caved in Thrym's head, and then he clobbered Thrym's sister and took his rings back, and then he went through the rest of the cousins, brothers, and sisters, one by one, until every single relative of Thrym's was pushing up daisies."

"What was Loki doing?"

"Loki was sitting there, chilling, waiting for Thor to work out all his anger issues. Eventually, Thor slowed down enough for Loki to get a word in edgewise, so he suggested that they head on back to Asgard, before the rest of the giants noticed what had happened to their king. So Thor hugged his hammer, and then we climbed into Thor's chariot and sped off towards home. And that's the story of how Thor lost his hammer, and how he got it back."

~

Gabriel watches Ben dash off towards the Impala, probably to grab his handheld gaming system (Gabriel completely forgets what it's called). For a kid who lost his mother only a few months ago, he's doing…well. As well as could be expected, anyways. Gabriel knows that he cries sometimes, at night, trying to muffle the sound as best he can so that no one comes to check on him.

Those are the nights when Gabriel tries to leave him things: a piece of candy, or a new video game. Little things, things that Dean and Castiel don't really understand.

"You said 'we,'" he hears, and Gabriel turns slightly, eyeing Dean. He's standing in the doorway to the tiny 'kitchen' area of the hotel – they've really sprung for something fancy, this time. Kids can't live off of diner food and takeout forever, and Castiel had been adamant on trying his hand at cooking. "Instead of 'they.' 'We climbed into Thor's chariot.' Did all of that really happen?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know."

Dean shakes his head, huffing softly. "Whatever. Just…thanks, for doing that. You know I'm not…"

Dean makes a gesture that could mean any number of things, but Gabriel gets it. Dean Winchester would make a good father…an _excellent_ father, even, but he's still at the point where he's puzzling out how children work. He knows he likes Ben, but that's about _all_ he knows, and having Castiel trying to play 'mother' isn't really helping things (at least, judging by the smell of burnt pizza coming from the kitchen).

"No problem," Gabriel says magnanimously. "I like kids. They're simple. Most of them don't try to bullshit you, and I respect that."

Dean makes a face; Gabriel doesn't need to be a mindreader (which he is, but still) to recognize the emotion that's buried underneath that tough-guy façade.

"He pretty much adores you," Gabriel says quietly. "I mean, you saved his life. _And_ you were his surrogate father figure for _how_ long?"

"But I couldn't save Lisa."

"And I'll bet you anything he knows that, and loves you anyways. So stop acting like you're tainting the kid just by letting him remain in your presence, because _that_…is bullshit."

"Dean! Dean, check out my party!"

Ben comes dashing back into the room at roughly the speed of light, and Gabriel kicks back on the bed while Dean kneels down, now wearing an expression that translates, roughly, into 'Oh god, what have I gotten myself into.' Dean Winchester knows absolutely nothing about video games, but he listens attentively as Ben tries to explain them, and he asks questions, like he really _does_ want to learn. Castiel pokes his head out of the kitchen, looking mildly chagrinned.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to order takeout," he says, and Dean groans.

"Cas, it's _microwave pizza_. How'd you manage to ruin microwave pizza?"

Ben drops down onto the bed beside Gabriel while Dean climbs to his feet, sweeping into the kitchen like a protective mother bear in order to survey the damage that Castiel may or may not have caused.

"Sorry, kiddo," Gabriel offers. "If you want, I can grab you something from a restaurant. Olive Garden or something?"

"Nah," Ben says quietly. "It's okay. I don't mind Chinese food again. Gabriel?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you know more stories? Can you tell me another one tomorrow?"

Gabriel tilts his head, listening to Dean patiently explaining to Castiel that you have to take the pizza _out_ of the plastic wrap before you put it in the microwave. So _that's_ what the burning smell was.

"I think you should ask Dean to tell you a story," Gabriel says slowly. Ben makes a face, and Gabriel laughs. "Trust me on this one. He's way more interesting than he wants you to think."

"Hey," Dean calls out, "Ben! How do you feel about Thai instead of Chinese or pizza?"

Ben rolls his eyes. "I don't care, Dean!"

Except he does – Gabriel can see it. Ben cares a _lot_, and not just about the takeout that Dean is getting him.

Dean will be grateful later, Gabriel is sure. He might actually _thank_ Gabriel. But, for now, Gabriel lays back and remembers a dark, cold night, Thor a wall of heat beside him, and Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr pulling them steadily home.


End file.
